The Fifth Day of Christmas

The developers of the liturgical calendar wisely created a twelve day period to celebrate and contemplate the birth of Christ: December 25 - January 5. The Western Church celebrates the birth of Jesus on December 25, then marks the visit of the magi and/or the beginning of Jesus' public ministry on Epiphany, January 6. The Eastern Church celebrates the birth of Jesus on January 6. The twelve days of the Christmas season come on the heels of the four Sundays of the Advent Season whose focus is the coming of Christ. Both seasons are times of reflection, calling us to reflect on the wonder of Christ's birth and, therein, to reflect on the mystery of the incarnation. 

In contrast, the cultural calendar begins its promotion before Thanksgiving Day. Once Christmas Day is over, it has already moved on to focus on the next holiday, New Years Day. Its Christmas focus is full of hurry, not stillness. It is full of busyness, not reflection. It focuses on sentimentality, not mystery. Its objective is economic gain, not relationship with God. It is over in a flurry of unwrapping of gifts.

May this fifth day of Christmas lead you into deeper awe and wonder as you reflect on God's gift to us, God's own Self, wrapped in human flesh as a helpless, vulnerable infant. Of course, this benediction assumes you are following the liturgical calendar, not the cultural one.

4th Sunday of Advent, December 22, 2019 - A Voice Crying Out in Prayer

Sometimes the cry is that of a lone voice;

            sometimes, the voices of many swelling together as one.

The cry is a cry of pain and suffering,

            expressing powerless desperation,

            calling out for escape, for relief.

The cry is one a deep longing –

a longing rooted deep in the core of one’s being -

            a longing for peace and wholeness, 

a longing  for God.

The cry is a mournful cry,

laced with a sadness that shrouds the soul

as one grieves what was, but is no more,

            what never was, but should have been.

But the cry is more than a cry.  It is a prayer -

            a calling out to one whose nature is self-giving Love.

And as a prayer, the cry is an expression of confidence

            in a love that will not let us go,

            in a love that never turns its back on us,

            in a love that always works to transform and bless

even at great cost to Self.

Self-giving love is the heart of God – and such love is a mark of the people of God.

During this Advent season, we remember that we are a people of love. 

3rd Sunday of Advent, December 15, 2019 - A Voice Cries Out ... as a Prelude to Joy

Sometimes the cry is that of a lone voice;

            sometimes, the voices of many swelling together as one.

The cry is a mournful cry,

full of sorrow and grief,

laced with a sadness that shrouds the soul

as one grieves what was, but is no more,

            what never was, but should have been.

But the cry is more than a mournful cry.  It is a prayer – a calling out to One who is compassionate and gracious.

And as a prayer, the cry brings the one who cries out into the presence of the One

who binds up the brokenhearted,

who brings release to the captive,

who comforts those who mourn.

As a prayer, the cry opens the heart of the one who cries out –

opens that one to God and to the love of God,

            opens that one to experience the goodness of God in the midst of sorrow,

opens that one to the work of God in the midst of the darkest night.

As a prayer, the cry is a prelude to joy.

            Joy is the response of the heart to the goodness of God. 

Joy is a mark of the people of God –

            joy rooted in the experience of God and God’s love,

            joy unaffected by life’s circumstances,

joy that heals the soul and transforms the spirit.

During this Advent season, we remember that we are a people of joy.

2nd Sunday of Advent, December 8, 2019 - A Voice Cries Out ... for Peace

Sometimes the cry is that of a lone voice;

            sometimes, the voices of many swelling together as one.

The cry expresses a deep longing – a longing rooted deep in the core of one’s being.

            It is a longing

–        for that which is missing

–        for that which has been lost

–        for that which has never been, but should be – could be.

The cry expresses the heart’s deep longing for peace –

            for the absence of turmoil and confusion

for the absence of suspicion and distrust

            for the absence of misunderstandings and personal attacks

for the absence of hurts and unresolved issues

            for the absence of conflict and strife

for the absence of division and alienation

            for the absence of violence and its destruction.

The cry expresses the heart’s deep longing for wholeness –

            for freedom from fear and worry

            for freedom from criticism, judgment, and rejection

            for freedom to live beyond pretense and superficiality

            for freedom to offer one’s self in relationship to another

            for freedom to explore and discover, to learn and grow

            for freedom to live fully with creativity and joy.

The cry expresses the heart’s deep longing - 

            a longing for place that is safe

a longing for home

a longing  for God.

And so the cry is more than a longing cry.  It is a prayer -

            a calling out to One who understands,

            a turning to One who is compassionate,

            a trusting of One who comforts.

And as a prayer, the cry leads us to that for which we long –  to peace

to a peace deep within

to a peace the world cannot give

to a peace that cannot be explained.

As a prayer, the cry leads us to God – and brings us home.

Peace is a mark of the people of God –

            peace as one rests in the grace, the forgiveness, the acceptance of God

            peace within the depths of one’s own heart – cleansed of the poison of guilt and shame and self-hate

            peace as life is shared deeply and meaningfully in spiritual friendship with another.

Peace is the mark of the people of God –

            who long for a world at peace – shaped by the truth of God

            who live as peacemakers in the world seeking to bring to reality the time in which

                        the wolf shall live with the lamb,

                        the calf and lion will lie down together

                        and the earth is full of the knowledge of the LORD.

During this Advent season, we remember that we are a people of peace. 

1st Sunday of Advent, 2019: A Voice Cries Out

A voice cries out:

In the wilderness, prepare the way of the LORD,

make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Isaiah 40:3

Sometimes the cry is that of a lone voice;

            sometimes, the voices of many swelling together as one.

The cry is one of pain and suffering, rising

            out of wrongs that are endured,

            out of burdens that are carried,

            out of blows that have been absorbed,

            out of resources that are depleted

            out of energies that have long since disappeared.

The cry is that of one stuck - caught between the proverbial rock and hard place - who seemingly has no options - who sees no way out.

The cry expresses powerless desperation, putting into words the fear

            of being overwhelmed,

            of being beat down,

            of being defeated.

Sometimes the cry is screamed in the face of wrong.

            Sometimes the cry is whispered in the silence of the night.

            Sometimes the cry gets stuck in the throat and won't come out.

            Sometimes the cry has been reduced to a silent scream.

But always, the cry calls out, longing for relief - escape - a way out.

But the voice is more than a cry.  It is a prayer -

            a calling out to One who hears,

            a pleading to One who responds,

            a trusting in One who delivers.

And as a prayer, it is the expression of hope.

            Hope - hope is more than a wishful longing, a desperate desire.  Hope is the quiet confidence, the settled assurance that God is at work - and that God's work will result in blessing and good.

            Hope - hope is a glance toward the future.  Hope is waiting for that which will be.  And hope is the strength to keep on keeping on.

Hope is a mark of the people of God -

            as they long for the good for which God is working,

            as they wait for that good from the hand of God,

            as they work with God to bring that good into being,

            as they endure until God's work is done.

The people of God, the followers of Jesus are a people of hope. 

Christ the King

Today is Christ the King Sunday - the last Sunday of the Christian year on the liturgical calendar. For many church members, it is a little known High Sunday or Feast Day. In UM circles, the term King is considered to be too hierarchical, too masculine, and suggests domination, particularly male domination. So, they prefer the term Reign of Christ Sunday. I prefer the original term, Christ the King Sunday. It reflects good, biblical theology. And it is one of my favorite Sundays of the liturgical year.

This particular Sunday emphasizes and celebrates "Jesus is Lord!" The celebration looks backward at the victory of Christ in his death and resurrection.It proclaims that Jesus has conquered sin and death and has broken their power in our lives.  But it also has a forward look. It affirms that the Kingdom in its fullness will one day be a reality on earth. This Sunday looks forward to the time that God's victory in Christ will not just impact individual lives, but will permeate all of creation. The brokenness of this world will be healed and the oneness of heaven and earth will be restored. Christ the King Sunday proclaims Christian hope - not wishful thinking, but the quiet assurance of what will be.

This last Sunday of the Christian year not only celebrates Christ's victory and assures us of its reality, it is also a call to faithfulness. It calls us to faithfully live the ways of the Kingdom that Jesus proclaimed and lived. It calls us to live out of step with the ways of the world.

"Jesus is Lord" was the central affirmation of the 1st century church. It was more than the affirmation of a theological belief. It was a political statement. Yes, a political statement! (We cannot divorce theology and politics!) When the early Christ followers proclaimed "Jesus is Lord," they were proclaiming "Caesar is not Lord!" For them, "Jesus is Lord" was an act of defiance, of civil disobedience.

In the first century, allegiance to Rome was expressed in proclaiming "Caesar is Lord!" This proclamation was like US citizens standing to salute the flag and recite the Pledge of Allegiance ... only more so. Throughout the Roman Empire, Caesar wore the titles of "Lord," "Prince of Peace," the "Savior of the World," "Son of God," and "God Incarnate." (Sound familiar? Read Luke's account of the birth of Jesus - chapter 2 - with this understanding in your mind.)  The Romans wedded politics and religion. The emperor, i.e., Caesar, was the divinely appointed ruler, the son of God and God in the flesh. He was a member of the Roman pantheon, the gods' representative on earth. To resist Rome (i.e., Caesar) was to defy the will of the gods. Temples with likeness of the emperor were established throughout the Empire. Those who lived within the borders of the Empire had to swear allegiance at these Temples by proclaiming "Caesar is Lord!" The refusal to do so was viewed as insurrection, punishable by flogging, imprisonment, confiscation of property, and even death. (This practice is the backdrop to the book of Revelation and the key to understanding the imagery in it.)

Thus, for the first Christ followers, to proclaim "Jesus is Lord" was an act of insurrection. It was to reject Caesar as Lord and, in doing so, it was to reject the hierarchical, domination ways Caesar embodied. It was to proclaim the ways of the kingdom and live them here, now, in the midst of a world that used power to dominate for the advantage of a few. To reject Caesar's authority was to reject the ways of Rome in which human life was cheap, in which wealth and power were the measure of greatness. To proclaim "Jesus is Lord" was to intentionally live out of step with the society in which they lived, living by a different set of values and a different understanding of truth.

Thus, Christ the King Sunday calls us beyond cultural Christianity that wears the name of Christ but lives the values of its culture. It calls us to reaffirm our commitment to "Jesus is Lord" by living the ways of the Kingdom in the midst of a society in which wealth and power are the measure of greatness and in which human life (at least some people's lives) is not valued.

It seems to me, the message of Christ the King Sunday is needed today. We ignore it or downplay it to our own peril.

Jesus is Lord! Thanks be to God!

Trying Harder to Do Better

Self-reliance is highly prized in our Western culture. Self-reliance translates into self-effort, using our own power and abilities to overcome obstacles, to achieve. Both self-reliance and self-effort are viewed as virtues while being dependent is viewed negatively as some kind of moral failure. In my life, I have lived out of both self-reliance and self-effort. But in the spiritual life, self-reliance and self-effort are obstacles that block spiritual development.

Self-effort is about trying hard to succeed. In the spiritual life, self-effort means trying harder to do better. It is about doing. It is about changing behavior. We try to stop what we view as wrong (sinful) and start doing what we view as right.

Self-reliance and self-effort play on our awareness that we fail to measure up (as do many religious groups and pastors!). We live with the awareness that, when it comes to God, we fail to do what is pleasing to God. In religious terms, we sin.  We always have room for improvement.

Which raises the question: how do we deal with this awareness that we fail to measure up? Until we learn differently, we inevitably turn to self-reliance and self-effort. We resolve to do better.

Trying harder to do better, i.e., self-reliance and self-effort, often produces a vicious cycle: awareness of failure, resolve to do better (repentance, recommitment, rededication - call it what you want), self-effort, inevitable relapse and failure. The relapse restarts the cycle: awareness, followed again by resolve to do better, self-effort (trying harder), followed by another inevitable relapse. And then the cycle starts all over yet again.

This pattern of "trying harder to do better" is common in religious circles. And it has devastating consequences. It can lead to a sense of defeat. No matter how hard we try, we fail. So we give up. We surrender. Our sense of defeat is generally accompanied by guilt and shame ... and a good dose of self-loathing. OR, the cycle can lead us to settle for "as best I can." We tip our hats at the recurring failure, saying "nobody is perfect." We don't dwell on the reality. Rather, we do our best to be good people. We are active in church life, doing church activities, i.e., things we can do. OR, the cycle can lead us to spiritual arrogance and spiritual blindness. The ego cannot endure the humiliation associated with repeated failure. So we find a way psychologically to block it out. We focus on others' failure while naming the good that we do. (Judging and condemning others are indicators that we have become spiritually arrogant and blind. See Matthew 7:1-5.) Focusing on others' failures allows us to feel superior. We become spiritually arrogant. Focusing on the good things we do blinds us to the wrongs we do. We become spiritually blind.

Any one of these outcomes is devastating spiritually. At best, they leave us unchanged, spiritually undeveloped and immature. At worse, they leave us blind to our condition.

OR, there is another possible outcome. The repeated cycle can help us recognize a fundamental spiritual reality, a reality that self-reliance and self-effort ignore. The focus of the spiritual journey is internal, not external; the heart, not behavior. See Matthew 15:15-20 and Mark 7:14-23, "out of the heart." While self-effort can change some behavior, no amount of self effort can change what is in the heart. Only God can transform the heart.

This spiritual reality puts us in a position of dependency on God, on God's grace, on God's forgiveness, on the Spirit's transforming work. The thing is, spiritual dependency is hard on the ego. We don't like to be in a position of dependency. We like to be self-reliant, independent. We like to believe "I can do it myself!" But in the spiritual realm, we cannot do it ourselves. We need God.

Spiritual progress is not possible through self-reliance and self-effort. Self-reliance and self-effort actually block progress. Spiritual progress is only possible through a spirit of glad dependence. It is only possible by acknowledging what my professor called spiritual bankruptcy: I do not have the ability, in my own strength, to live the ways of God. No amount of my self-effort will produce love or joy or peace or any of the other nine fruit of the Spirit. Only the Spirit, working in me, transforming my heart, can produce love and joy and peace in me.

Spiritual progress is never the result of self-reliance and self-effort. Spiritual progress can only occur when we abandon self-reliance and self-effort ... when we quit trying so hard. It can only occur when we, in a spirit of glad dependency, open our hearts and minds to the transforming work of God's Spirit.